Ghostwriting, Part III: Why do it in the first place?

Although the issue of why authors would hire someone else to write their work is a complex and important issue, more fascinating to me is what prompts someone to ghostwrite in the first place. One who provides some interesting insight is Andrew Crofts, allegedly “Britain’s most prolific ghostwriter” with 45 books under his belt–but not under his name. He explains to Bookends magazine why he chose this life:

“If I’d designed the new Mini, that would be a pretty staggering achievement, wouldn’t it? But I wouldn’t expect to have my name plastered across the back of it – ‘designed by Andrew Crofts’. I’m perfectly willing to accept that it’ll say ‘Mini’ on it. If I’d baked the new Mr Kipling cake, I’m quite willing for Mr Kipling to take the credit. So why are writers and actors so much more important?

“Isn’t building a fantastic modern building more important than most books? But the architect doesn’t have ‘designed by…’ written all over it, he doesn’t insist that the building’s never mentioned unless he’s praised for it. It’s very nice if he does get into an architectural journal, but he doesn’t expect the public to…” He trails off, leaving the sentence unfinished; something he does quite a lot. It’s a bit like his habit of asking questions instead of making statements – a form of unconscious verbal self-effacement. Never mind my opinions, he seems to be saying, what about yours? Perhaps it’s something he’s picked up from years of being the man behind the Dictaphone, the blank sheet of paper that others can write on.

And how did Crofts get into the business in the first place, and how do people like Kevin Lewis (THE KID) and John Fenton find him?

But where does he find these people? Or, more to the point, where do they find him? Well, one of the ways is through the ads he takes out in the trade press. “My name has got to be constantly around, so that if anyone’s looking for ghost-writers, I’m the one they find. Some of the best projects I’ve had have been from people just going into libraries and asking how to find a ghostwriter. The librarian gets out a copy of Publishing News or the Bookseller, and gives them the number.”

It’s going to be his number they give out, not only because he’s the only person who takes out weekly adverts in the trade press to publicise his ghost-writing services, but because he’s just about the only full-time professional ghost-writer in the country; and, so far as he knows, just about the only one who’s willing to describe himself as a ghost-writer by trade. “Most writers have done it at some stage, but they don’t like people to know. They think they’re too important or something, whereas I just think – pfff.” He grins a toothy grin, a most contented, self-effacing, ego-free ghost.

In other words, Crofts seems to be the antithesis of Michael Gruber–someone who (perhaps) genuinely has no desire to see his own work published under his own name, who’s ready and willing to play the chameleon and let other people’s voices supplant his own. Which isn’t to judge him, because if he realized that was his true talent, then more power to him.

If Gruber’s the angst-ridden one and Crofts is the guilt-free one, Michael Robotham is somewhere in between. He ghosted a number of celebrity biographies (including Geri Halliwell’s) but published his first novel, THE SUSPECT, under his own name earlier this year. The Book of the Month Club asked him about the difficulty of “making the switch”

It can be a very comfortable life being a ghostwriter, never having to put your head above the parapet. That’s what’s so daunting about publishing a novel. This time it’s personal.

Is it harder? Yes, absolutely. Instead of having a wealth of material at my fingertips – the interviews and research necessary for an autobiography – writing fiction means starting from scratch. Any writer will tell you how scary that clean white page can be. At the same time, writing fiction has similarities with ghostwriting. Instead of capturing the ‘voice’ of someone whose life I’m helping write, I had to capture the ‘voice’ of my narrator, Joseph O’Loughlin. In my head Joe became just as real as the living and breathing subjects I’ve collaborated with.

In the end it’s Robotham who really summarizes the motivations of ghostwriting and writing under one’s own name: the former’s a job, while the latter–at least usually–involves the writer’s own personal history, issues, and desires.